


The Roaming Pines

by Alys_Gay_Parade



Category: Gravity Falls, The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Aly's pain factory, Gen, Raising toddlers in the apocalypse, Stangst, That is way too many people shoved into a car, toddlers in the apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2019-10-22 15:26:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17665133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alys_Gay_Parade/pseuds/Alys_Gay_Parade
Summary: A family picnic on July 19th, 2003 goes awry when the end of the world falls upon humanity. As the dead begin to rise, Ford and Stan must battle rising tensions, hard pasts, and the walking dead to keep their family alive.





	1. The Fall of Man

“I’m glad you two came down here... you didn’t have to.” Sherman walked with his older brothers, feeling a sense of belonging for the first time since seeing them both in the hospital. “The girls, they really look up to you, yaknow?”

“And we love those kids.” Ford stopped walking at the top of the hill and turned, looking down at the park to see the toddlers playing with their parents. “Stan... thanks for saving me. I’m glad I got to be here to watch them.”

“Ah, don’t mention it. When Shermie called to tell me that his son got his girlfriend pregnant... I knew I had to bring you home faster so that you didn’t miss a second of them.” Stan stood beside Ford, Sherman weaseling his way between them. The older men looked at their brother, his face just so full of pride.

“You know, I know my kid isn’t the best person. Stephen has a temper. He isn’t very.... emotionally coherent.”

“As is the way of Pines men.” Ford saw the glare that Sherman shot him but only smiled.

“But the way he interacts with those girls... I can tell, he’s gonna be a good dad.”

“I hope his army dad upbringing doesn’t turn him into our dad.” Stan sat with a sigh, prompting Ford and Sherman to shake their heads at each other.

“Stanley, we talked about this. Dad regretted his actions. Especially after the funeral.” Sherman sat beside Stan with a soft smile. “He did better for me, at least. He’s not a bad guy, he just made very,  _very_  stupid mistakes.”

“I don’t forgive him. I almost died, multiple times, because he kicked me onto the street.” Stan hugged his knees close, brow furrowing with anger.

“We aren’t asking you to forgive him, Stan. Hell, I don’t forgive him for treating me like a cash cow. But you should give him a chance to repent.”

“Which is exactly why... I invited them over here for Stephen’s birthday.” Both ford and Stan turn to look at their brother with blank expressions. From where they stood, they could see a taxi pull up to the curb, and out came two figures: a tall woman and a short man in a suit. Their parents. “So, you two are going to go down there and speak to them for the first time in fucking decades. Understood?”

“Ugh, Sherman, you are such a brat-”

“Stan. Let’s just get this over with. Rip off the band-aid.” Ford helped Stan up wigh a groan. “Although, Sherman, he does have a point. It was kind of shitty of you to not talk to us about this.”

“If I had told you, you guys wouldn’t have come.”

As the twins approached their parents, a silence permeated the air. Parents staring in disbelief at their estranged sons. Caryn was the first to move. She hugged the two of them tightly, eliciting silent tears from Ford. Stan remained silent as she finally pulled away.

“Boys...” Filbrick slowly walked over, eyes focusing on the ground. “I’m sorry. I know it means jack shit. But... I’m sorry.”

“The funeral... took a toll on all of us, Stan.” Sherman stood between their parents with a soft smile. “Dad got really scary for a bit. Not violent... but...”

“Filbrick tried to commit suicide about a year after the fact.” Caryn slowly put a hand on her husband’s shoulder, noticing the tears forming in his eyes. “Your brother was the one that found him and called an ambulance.”

“You expect me to just forgive him?”

“Stanley, honey, nobody is sayi-”

“No! He deserved that pain. He almost did get me killed!” Stan walked toward Filbrick, vision blinded by tears and rage. “So many times, I woke up in a hospital. With a jailhouse nurse patching me up. I tried to kill myself a few times, got locked in a mental institution for six months.”

“Stanley.” Filbrick’s stifled sob cut through Stan. He went silent, only glaring as Filbrick set something into his hand. He flipped it around to reveal one of his old boxing medals with “#1 son” engraved and painted in blue. Filbrick pulled the old golden chain out of his jacket.

“You kept it? Even though I was a rotten kid?”

“I always loved you and your brother, Stanley. Was just... never good at showing it.” Stan pocketed the medal and looked away.

“You’re gonna have to do a lot more than pull at my heart strings if you want my forgiveness, old man. But... I’ll humor you.” He brushed by Filbrick without making eye contact, ramming him with his shoulder. “Don’t fuck this up like you fucked my life up.”

“Dad... Stan’s understandably very upset. Give him some time, and I’m sure that he’ll come arou-”

Screaming erupts from nearby in the park. Ford’s head swivels to see a woman, a half rotten corpse biting down into her calf. More come walking up over the hill. Ford and Stan’s first instincts are to grab the kids and run. Sherman is right behind them, followed closely by their parents.

“Sarah!” They all turn to see Stephen trying to drag his girlfriend out of the grasp of one of the dead. Caryn rushed in to help without second thought. They both tried to pull Sarah free until Caryn’s arm was also grabbed. She screamed as teeth sank in before Stephen grabbed her and started running, leaving Sarah behind.

Everybody piles into Sherman’s jeep as he starts driving through the chaos.

“Oh god, I just left her back there- I left Sarah behind with those things, god- FUCK.” Stephen gently rocked himself in his seat while Filbrick tended to Caryn.

“Caryn, love, are you hurt?”

“One of the damn things bit me!”

Ford handed Mason to Stephen before going to check his mother’s wound. She cried in pain as he moved her arm toward him. “Mom, you’ll be okay, it isn’t that deep.” His voice quaked. It  _was_  that deep, the bite having hit a major artery in her wrist. She was losing blood quickly.

“Well, we have to get her to the damn hospital!” Filbrick’s voice was urgent in Ford’s ears.

“Well, all the roads are blocked! We can’t even fucking get out of the city unless we break every traffic law!” Sherman’s tone was laced with panic.

“We have to do something! Ford, you have like twelve PhDs. Can you save mom?” Stan looked at his brother with fear in his eyes. The kids were crying. Stephen was curled into a tight ball.

“Everybody SHUT UP!” Ford’s loud voice caused everybody in the car to become silent. “Sherman, there’s not going to be any room in the hospital for mom. Keep driving and get us out of town any way you have to.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Dad, try to keep mom calm. She’s losing blood quick and her panicking is only going to make treating her wound harder.”

“Right.” Filbrick gently took Caryn’s good hand and gave her a comforting gaze. “You’ll be okay, hun.”

“Stan... you can help me by applying pressure to the bite while I gather things to treat it.” Ford looked to the terrified teenager curled around his kids. “Stephen, just breathe and keep your kids calm.”

He began to rummage through the jeep, managing to find a suitable sewing needle and thread in Sherman’s glovebox emergency kit. A little deeper, and Ford found a first aid kit. Leave it to the military child to be prepared.

Ford scrambled back to his mother and gently took her arm from Stan’s grip. “This is going to hurt like hell, mom.”

“I’m aware. Don’t forget who treated all your scraped knees when you were a kid.”

Ford poured the peroxide onto the wound, everybody flinching at Caryn’s pained yelp. He carefully began to suture as best he could in a moving vehicle, wanting to pull away every time he messed up and caused her more pain. She yelped with every stitch, but he needed to close the bite.

After applying the bandage, he felt a little at ease. “You should be okay, mom. Just tell me if you start to feel off.”

“Alright, freeway is blocked, going off road!” The whole jeep bounced as they veered off into the woods, unobstructed by frantic traffic.

“So... what do we do?” Stan looked to his brother for guidance. “You’re the paranormal scientist, what do we do here?”

“I-I don’t know... I’ve never encountered anything like this before.” Ford turned his gaze outside to watch as the dead attack and brutalize those on the roads. “I guess we just... drive until we find somewhere safe.”

A few hours of silence passed as Sherman drove. Their location changed, but the scenery didn’t. Abandoned and stuck cars. Reanimated corpses. Vicious attacks. It was chaos. Pure, unadulterated chaos.

Ford captured as much of the apocalypse as he could, keeping an eye on the road. Nothing but thick, heavy quiet and Caryn’s hard breathing filled the air.

“Mom?” Ford scooted over to her when he heard the breathing stop. He checked for a pulse. None. His mind began to race. “She’s... dead...” There was no way she could have succumbed to infection that quickly. That’s when it happened. Her skin a sickly green, she sprung her arm forward and grabbed his hand.

Filbrick released her as her inhuman growls cut through the air. Ford struggled to keep her jaws away from him, kicking at her. He could feel the Jeep suddenly stop, sending him to the floor. He grabbed at a knife that was tucked under Sherman’s seat and dug it into Caryn’s chest. This did not deter the dead. She lunged forward, only being stopped by Ford raising his boot and kicking her back. He braced himself for certain doom before hearing a loud bang.

Caryn’s corpse dropped, a hole in the head. Ford opened his eyes to see Sherman holding his pistol, shaking. Mason and Mabel cried in their father’s arms. Filbrick curled up against the door, sobbing incoherently. Stan’s expression was blank. But in his eyes, you could see the full scale of terror.

Ford looked back to his mother’s corpse before noticing the approaching walking corpses. He opened his door and kicked the body to the ground before slamming the door closed once more. “SHERMAN WE CAN GRIEVE LATER, WE NEED TO FUCKING DRIVE.”

The silence once again settled as a sadness sunk deep into their core.

“Ford... what are those.” Stan’s voice was barely audible.

“Well... they’re the dead, walking. Let’s call them walkers.”

“Dude,” Sherman white-knuckled the steering wheel with tears in his eyes, “I just fucking shot mom, dude. I shot her.”

“That wasn’t mom. She became one of them.” Ford put a hand on his little brother’s shoulder to console him.

“S-So... what now?” Stephen’s voice wavered as Ford turned to him. “What happens when the world ends? Some birthday.”

“Boys, we’re Pines. We fight tooth and nail to survive.” Filbrick wiped away his tears before donning his sunglasses. “I’m living to a hundred twenty outta spite. No shambling corpses are gonna take me.”

“Then it’s settled. We drive. We survive.” Ford took Mason from Stephen and Stan took Mabel. The older twins looked to each other with a soft smile. “At least we have each other.”


	2. The Road

“Okay guys...” Sherman quietly pulled his car over before looking to his family. “Maricopa is the last town we’re going to hit for a while, and I have about four gallons left in my tank. We gotta siphon as much as possible before we get back on the road.”

The radio was going quietly in the background, talking about the level of disaster the country was dealing with. Piedmont was a stage 9 catastrophe.

“I say,” Ford looked at the adults in the car and took a deep breath, “two of us should go looking for fuel and supplies while the rest of you lay low.”

“Great.” Filbrick grabbed his cane and smiled. “I’ll go.”

“Dad, no, don’t-”

“Sherman Filbrick Pines.” The old man rested the end of his cane on his youngest son’s shoulder with a soft smile. “Let me be a dad for a little bit longer, okay?”

“Dad, you are seventy-three years old. I am not about to let you go out there and get yourself killed.” Sherman slid the cane off his shoulder and sent his father a disapproving glare. “I just lost my mom, I don’t want to lose you, too.”

“Ah, if the old man wants to go on a suicide mission, let him.” Sherman swiveled his head toward Stan with a look of pure disbelief.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like I’m fucking around, Shermie?” Stan lounged back and sighed. “The guy almost got me killed multiple times, why should I care if he-”

“Enough.” Ford’s harsh tone got everybody’s attention. “I’ll go with dad. Stan, you watch out for everybody here.” Ford stepped out and went to the trunk, pulling out a metal bat and giving it a few test swings.

“Stanford.” Filbrick came up behind his oldest son with sorrow in his eyes. “I know Stan will never trust me again.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t leave you to die.” Ford strapped the bat to his back before grabbing the kids’ diaper bag and emptying it into the trunk. He strapped it over his shoulder with a heavy sigh. “I’m... I don’t want you to die, but I am also very bitter with you.”

Filbrick quietly took the duffel bag containing Stephen’s baseball equipment and emptied it as well, putting it over his shoulder. “I don’t blame either of you for hating me. I was an awful dad.”

Ford sighed and grabbed a gas can before they began walking into town. “I don’t hate you. And I’m sure, as Stan spends time around you and you begin to show how you’ve changed, he’ll come around.”

“Are you sure?” Filbrick stopped to assess the number of walkers on the main road. “He seems to want me dead.”

“Dad, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that Stan inherited your stubbornness and ability to keep a grudge.”

“All three of you inherited that, Stanford.”

They carefully trekked down California Street, avoiding walkers as they shambled along. They passed by a couple that seemed to be feasting on a large dog, causing Filbrick to gag.

“You okay, dad? We can go back if you-”

“No... I’m fine.” Filbrick took a deep breath and removed his sunglasses. “I just... your mother turned into that. That dog could’ve easily been you... your brothers... Stephen... the kids.”

“It is scary to think about. How any of us could become... one of those.” Ford stopped and looked at the building next to them with a spark in his eyes. He dragged his father behind a car and hushed down. “How effective is that cane of yours at beating somebody’s brains in?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Well,” Ford points to the building, “That’s a gun store. We could go in and get weapons for everybody. If I go in, can I count on you to be able to fuck up a corpse or two?”

“How many are we talking about?”

Ford peeked over the hood of the car and did a headcount. “There’s three outside, two inside. If we take the ones outside, we can move in and take the indoor ones. Get anything left behind and move.”

“Seems risky, Stanford.”

“You’ve always been a gambling man, dad. Follow my lead.”

Ford creeped out from his hiding spot, staying low as he walked up behind one of the reanimated corpses. He took a deep breath and swung his bat as hard as he could, hearing a satisfying crack as it made contact with the walker’s skull. Ford looked over to see Filbrick struggling to pull the handle of his cane free from the skull of the walker he was aiming for. The third walker was coming up behind his father, who seemed to not notice.

Ford sprang into action, slamming his boot into the walker’s knee and bringing it down to the ground before slamming his bat into its head a few times until it stopped moving. He stood there, panting, as his father finally pried his cane loose.

“Dad... please be more careful.” Filbrick looked at Ford with wide eyes, realizing how close he came to death. “Yeah, I know, I saved you. Unlike Stan, I can put grudges behind me for the safety of the group.”

“I don’t deserve it-”

“Save the pity party for when we’re actually safe, or I WILL personally feed you to the corpses.” Ford opened the door and spent no hesitation bringing the bat down on a walker’s head. He watched his father do the same and listened to hear no more shuffling about inside. “Why did you insist on going?”

“... I... I thought that if I did come back, Stan would respect me. And if I didn’t, nobody would miss-”

“Let me put this into perspective for you. Stan and I are bitter fifty-one-year-old men. We can handle ourselves. Sherman is your thirty-three-year-old son. He has an eighteen-year-old son who’s a father to twins who will be four next month. The four of them need you. Especially since mom and Sarah are gone.” Ford puts a hand on his dad’s shoulder with a soft smile. “You wanna prove to Stan that you’ve changed? Don’t go on suicide missions hoping for death. Do your damnedest to protect your family.”

Filbrick felt tears prick his eyes but shook it off. “Right... thank you, Stanford.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m helping the group by keeping your head on straight.” Ford began grabbing weapons and ammo and loading them into his father’s bag. “Thankfully, Maricopa is a small town and most everybody owned guns. So, the store is fairly intact.”

“Guns cause attention, though. So, they should only be a last resort.” Filbrick packed more ammo, sighing.

“Of course. We need to fit everybody with a gun and a melee weapon. Even the kids.”

“What?” Filbrick moved to stand in front of Ford. “Give toddlers guns and knives, are you crazy?”

“What if they get attacked and nobody can swoop in to save them? I’m being realistic, dad.”

“You’re being a goddamn idiot, Stanford. Do not give those toddlers weapons.”

“This is the apocalypse. They need to learn to fend for themselves in case we aren’t there.” Ford quietly set a handgun into his bag, glaring at his father. “Don’t pretend you wouldn’t have done the same thing for Stan and I when we were kids.”

“I guess. But-”

“No buts. They are learning to defend themselves now.” Ford looked around before sighing. “You finish up gathering supplies here, I’m going next door to that diner so I can scavenge some food.”

Ford walked into the diner with no real problems. There didn’t seem to be any walkers inside. Bat at the ready, he quietly made his way to the kitchen and started to load what he could into his bag. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of a gun cocking behind him. With the barrel of a gun pressed to the back of his head. He raised his arms.

“Now, you’re gonna fill your bag and set it on the ground. Then you’re gonna leave real slow-like, ya hear?” Ford silently swore, quietly doing as he was told. “Folks got a lotta nerve, coming into my diner and stealing my supplies.”

“If it’s your supplies, why do you need the bag?”

“Boy, have you seen the mess out there? I ain’t stupid. Gettin' outta town is the best option.”

“Sure. But I have a family to feed. My dad, my brothers, a nephew and his kids...”

“And they’ll all die eventually. We’ve all got families, dead and alive.”

Filbrick walked into the diner to see his son with a gun pressed to his head. His breathing hitched as he panicked, thinking about what to do. He watched and saw tears slipping down Ford’s cheeks, prompting a rage he never knew he could feel.

Taking his cane, Filbrick slowly approached behind the man. He took a deep breath before using his cane to pull the old man’s leg out from under him, sending both him and his gun clattering to the floor. He stomped on the man’s hand as he reached for his discarded weapon and glared at him.

“Think about hurting my boy one more goddamn time. I fucking dare you.” Ford quickly finished loading their bag before Filbrick removed his foot. “You better not fuck with my family again, or you’ll wish I’d killed you.”

As they left the diner, Ford looked at his father with a smile. “You... you saved my life.”

“I protected my family.”

When the pair arrived back to the Jeep with supplies, they set their bags down. Ford opened the weapon stash and pulled out a couple of knives. “Mason, Mabel, come here.” He handed them the weapons. Mason eyed the knife curiously as Mabel took hers with glittering eyes. “These are not toys. They are to be used in emergencies. Understood?”

Mabel’s smile became devious as she unsheathed the knife, more like a sword in her chubby hands. “Ooh! Pointy!”

“Yes, it’s very sharp. Please be carefu-”

“Imma shank a bitch!”

Ford looked at her gap-toothed smile before eyeing her father. “You really need to monitor her television consumption.”

“Not like it fucking matters now! We’re dealing with the apocalypse!” Stephen let out a hard breath before sliding down in his seat. “It’s your eighteenth birthday, welcome to adulthood, time to literally fight for survival.”

“Dude, Steve, nobody likes that attitude of yours.” Sherman put a hand on his son’s shoulder with a heavy sigh. “We’ve all lost something today. What matters right now is making sure the rest of the family survives.”

“I just hope Fiddleford is alright. He and Tate went to Tennessee to visit family...” Ford sat in the car, wishing desperately to be with the man again. He couldn’t imagine feeling what his father and nephew have gone through, losing the loves of their lives.

“I’m sure the nerd’s okay.” Stan sat beside Ford with a smile and a light punch to the shoulder. “Would be a shame to lose him, though. Never woulda gotten the portal up and running if he hadn’t zapped his brain working again.”

“Yeah... He has to be okay.” He could feel everybody’s eyes on him, prompting him to snap. “Stop  _staring_  at me!”

“Just worried about ya, kiddo.” Hearing his father’s voice of concern eased the tension and he felt a few tears slip down his cheeks. Filbrick went to put his arm around Ford’s shoulders, only to be blocked by Stan. He backed down, sitting in his spot.

Sherman finished filling the gas tank with a smile. “Alright, guys. Ready to roll out. If it’s this easy to survive the walking dead, I’m set.”

“You’re a war vet, dad. You’re set either way.”

“Sherman, your left leg is mostly mesh. You can’t do shit.”

“Gee. Thanks, dad. Great bedside manner.”

As they made their way down the road through town, they could get a sense that everybody here either died or left. A gas station was a decent place to stock up on more food, and they got a bit more fuel from the fire trucks at the station.

“Here, Stephen. You know how to use a bat better than me. I’m taking that fire axe.” Ford handed off the bat to his nephew before grabbing the weapon, buried in the head of a walker. “This is more my style.”

As they continued on, something got their attention. “God, look at the airport.” Stan watched out the window as they slowly drove by. Walkers milled about the parking lot, a plane crashed into the side of the building. “Guess one of the passengers must’ve been bit.”

“Thank god it’s not us.” Stephen held Mason and Mabel so they could peek out. “Grandpa, that could’ve easily been you and grandma.”

“Glad it wasn’t.” Filbrick leaned against the window and looked away from Stan, avoiding his glares. “So, any idea where we’re going? Or are we just wandering until the end of time?”

“I’d like to go find Fiddleford and make sure he’s okay.” Ford pulled out a road map of the US, marking the best route to travel. “We should avoid major roads as much as possible. They’re probably blocked by cars.”

“Uncle Ford, how do we even know that your little boyfriend is okay?”

“Listen here, you little shit stain on society. Fiddleford’s gotta be okay. He just has to be.” Ford took a deep breath, letting his anxiety diminish. “He’s on a farm in remote Tennessee. He knows how to make anything out of basically nothing. His whole family keeps guns. He’s fine. He has to be fine.”


	3. Numbers

“Guys, my leg is acting up. We  gotta  stop.”  Sherman sat  on a bench with a groan as the group stopped walking. “Good god, I wish we hadn't lost the jeep. ”

“I'm going to remind everybody that our shithead father is the reason we lost the damn jeep.”  Stan  slammed  the butt of his rifle into  Filbrick's  arm with a huff.

“Stanley, that's hardly fair. We left him alone to take care of the girls and the car. ” Ford stood beside his father with a frown. “They would've killed  the kids had he not given into demands.   Besides, you were the one who suggested leaving a lone elderly man to watch our things while we all went and scavenged the Pine Mountain Club , all for the sake of an ironic joke.”

“Yeah, uncle Stan, if anything this is your fault.”

“Listen, all I know is that we have been walking  for damn near three days  and none of the cars we've found have been functional. I'm tired and bitter.”  Stan sat as well, enjoying the break.

Filbrick  sat away from the group under a tree,  focusing on the cracks in the sidewalk. Mabel looked over and gripped her twin's hand , leading Mason over. “Are you okay?”

The old man looked up at the toddler's inquiry, confused. “I'm fine.”

“Why is  grunkle  Stan mad? ” She sat on  Filbrick's  knee, eliciting a sad smile.

“I did something stupid a long time ago. It hurt him pretty bad.” Mason climbed onto his other knee,  blinking in wonder. “I don't blame him for hating me.  I deserve it.”

“Well… daddy doesn't hate you. Grampa doesn't hate you. ” Mason's tiny voice came out as the child leaned against  Filbrick's  chest.

“And we love you, Papa  Filbrick !” Mabel hugged him , bringing a smile to his lips. “ You're a good person. ”

“So are you. My  L ittle Dipper and Shooting Star.”  Filbrick  hugged the children before looking over at his own sons. Stan refused to even face in his general direction. Ford glanced over before sighing. Sherman glared at his siblings before walking over and sitting with his father.

“You doing okay, dad? ”

“I miss Caryn.”  Filbrick  leaned his head against the bark, keeping quiet. “Your mother knew how to comfort me.  Knew how to take away the pain of my guilt.”

“ I'm sorry, dad. I miss mom, too. ”  Filbrick  hugged his youngest son with a soft smile.  “I wish she was here. She could help.”

“Well. She isn't. So we  gotta  cope without her.”

“The girls keeping you company?” Sherman looked to his grandchildren with a smile. Mason was falling asleep in  Filbrick's  arm as Mabel plucked the grass.

“Mabel was reassuring me that they love me, even if Stan hates me. ” He gently petted Mason's hair before sighing.

“Dad, you always tried your best for me. You cared about me, even when I was a little terror. That counts for something.” Sherman hugged his father before helping him stand. “The road  ah ead is blocked, but I figure if we go through the aquarium here, we can go around.”

“Or maybe we'll walk straight into a walker nest.” Stephen  leaned against his bat with a sigh. “I can't believe I miss my Microsoft  internship. I'd prefer sitting at a desk and running coffee to this nonsense any day.”

Ford walked up beside the teen with a smile , twirling his ax . “Chin up,  Steve. At least you aren't alone. ”

Filbrick  jostled Mason, waking the child from  slumber so they could continue walking.  The abandoned aquarium  sent chills down their spines.  As they walked along the halls,  they looked into the tanks, most now dark from the lack of power.  Ford studied a pair of sea otters that were inspecting them, only to be startled by a walker slamming into the glass.

Stuck on the other side, walking along the bottom of the tank, it slowly slammed itself against the  tank wall. “Guys, look at this! They just walk along the bottom  of bodies of water!  _ Intriguing _ .”  Ford found himself fascinated by the sight, observing the rotting  corpse from safety.

Mabel pressed her chubby hands against the glass as the  walker's growls bubbled beneath the water. “I  wanna  keep him.  Can we call him Bubbles?”

“Sweetheart, no.” Stan carefully pulled the girl away , staring at the dead uncomfortably. “ Ford, there might be more. We should go.”

“Just think, all of our problems would be solved by dumping all of them into the Marianas Trench! ” Ford pulled away and continued to walk, eyes sparkling.  “They would just be eaten by sea life!  Humanity could rebuild. We'd be safe! ”

Stan gave a snort as they moved through the building, keeping an eye on things. Ford  continued to ramble on, barely hearing himself over his own musings . Then a sound stopped him dead in his tracks.

Mason screaming.

The toddler's leg had been grabbed by a walker , trapped beneath a fallen tank wall ,  and was being pulled closer. Ford was first to respond, but a shot rang out over everybody's heads.

A man stood at the top  of another nearby enclosure , hopping down now that the threat was neutralized. “Hey there. Name's Mark. Was on my way east to help the  supply efforts . You folks headed that way?”

“Oh, finally, the government's stepping in.”  Stephen picked Mason up  and  walked forward with a smile, leading Mabel by the hand. “ My name is Stephen. These are my daughters, Mabel  and  Mason.  This is my dad, my uncles, and my grandpa.”

“We were heading to Tennessee.” Ford stepped forward with a grateful smile. “ You mind giving us a lift?”

“Sure! I ’ll be making stops along the way if I hear any signs of the living. It was hard not to hear your excited rambling from outside.”  Mark strapped his rifle to his back before making his way over to them , Ford sporting a sheepish smile.  “What was that about, anyway?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m just a paranormal researcher, so this stuff... it’s a bit exciting.” Ford shook the man’s hand with a chuckle. “Thanks for saving the kid.”

“So, what are you headed to Tennessee for?” Mark and Ford took up the head of the party, making their way out.

“My bro’s boyfriend went to visit family.” Sherman slung an arm around Ford as Stan weaseled in between Ford and Mark.

“Yeah, he’s worried ‘bout the  _ love of his life _ bein ’  _ hurt _ .” Ford shoved his twin’s face back behind him with a groan before shrugging off his baby brother’s arm.

“Don’t mind them. My partner, he and his son went to visit the family farm. It would be a shame to lose such a valuable member of my team.”  The pink tint to Ford’s cheeks betrayed him, revealing the truth in silence. He hoped that  Fiddleford  was okay.

“Well, I’d be happy to give you a lift as far as the first settlement we see. I’ve been on the road for two days, and everybody’s either hiding, dead, or abandoned their homes.” The Pines looked to each other with worried glances, and Sherman was the one to break the silence.

“H-How bad are things? We haven’t seen much.”

“I was in a hospital in Seattle when all this started. When I left to start my supply run two days ago? The city was a ghost town. Full of the dead and dying.” Stan and Ford exchange terrified expressions. “Let me tell you, the hospital is the worst place to be when the dead start rising.”

“The entirety of Seattle just wiped off the map?” Ford’s disbelief carried through the rest of the group as the others hung their heads. “This... this is worse than anybody predicted, isn’t it?”

“You’re telling me.” Mark led the family to his supply truck, climbing into the cab. “I don’t have much space up front, but you can hop in the back and ride along.”

“I call shotgun!” Stan vaulted himself into the passenger seat as Ford helped the kids into the back.

“Stanley, you’re over fifty, act like it.” All Ford got in reply was a raspberry and the door slamming. “I love my  brother,  I don’t want to kill him.”

The next few days of driving were more or less peaceful. Well, as peaceful as a sea of nothing and walking corpses can get. They would spend their nights camped in the back of the truck, taking turns on watch as they slowly made their way east.

“We should be passing by Macon, Georgia right now.” Ford held his flashlight with a firm grip as the truck plugged along. “I’m surprised at how few survivors we’ve run into.”

“My guess is a lot of people died in the ensuing panic.” Sherman tossed a ball he had picked up at some point, watching his grandkids run after it in glee. “I mean... most people aren’t trained to handle massive disasters like this.”

“At least we have our family. More than most people could say.”  Filbrick  tried to stand only to be knocked over again as the truck came to a stop. Soon enough, the door was opened to reveal a relieved Mark.

“We finally found a group of survivors that won’t try to kill us. They got kids, too!” As the Pines left the vehicle, they were happy to see some friendly faces – even if they were only friendly at the prospect of food.

“Hello, I’m Ford. This is my family.” They went down the line, introducing themselves to their new aquaintences.

“I’m Lee, and this is Clementine.” The man motioned to the girl, and Ford took note of how scared she looked. “Go on, now. They won’t bite.”

“H-Hello.”

“How old are  ya , kid?” Stan crouched down to her level, making himself as harmless looking as possible.

“E-Eight.”

“Me and Dipper are four!” Mabel bounced forward with a bright smile and hugged Clementine. “We’ll be  great  friends, you’ll see!”

“Dipper?” Stephen quirked a brow at his daughter.

“Yeah! Papa  Filbrick  called her that, and she liked it, so that’s her name now!”  Filbrick  shrugged with a sheepish grin, appreciating the fact that his nickname stuck.

“Name’s Kenny. This is my wife,  Katjaa , and our son, Ken Junior. But we just call him Duck.” Kenny ruffled the boy’s hair with a smile.

“H-Hi. I’m Mason. You can call me Dipper.” Dipper held a hand out to Duck, shrinking back in a shy manner as Duck went for the high five.

“I hope you won’t put bugs on my pillow like Clementine does!”

“Clem.” Lee gave the girl a sly expression. “Did you put a bug on Duck’s pillow?”

“No.” She shuffled herself and gave a grin at his cocked brow. “Yes.”

“This is all well and good, but we’ve talked about just letting people into the group! What if one of  them’s  bit?!”

“Larry, I’m gettin' real sick of your shit.” Kenny walked over to the older man, pressing a finger into his chest. “All you’ve done since day one is yell at anybody that doesn’t agree with  ya . You were willing to let my boy die!”

“If you hadn’t shown up, Carly would still be with us!”

“Would  y’all  knock it the hell off?! You’re scaring the kids.” Lee motioned to the four children , d elivering a stern expression to the fighting men. “Seriously, have some damn manners. This is no way to greet new guests.”

“W-Well, we won’t be staying long,” Ford started, “We’re on our way to Tennessee. In the morning, we’ll be out of your hair.”

“Yeah!” Sherman picked Mabel up with a smile. “So, we’ll just find a place to set up for the night and be on our way.”

“I don’t think so.” A woman walked up to the group with a frown, hands on her hips. “Name’s Lilly. I run things here. And we could use the extra man power. There’s safety in numbers.” She gave a pointed look to Larry. “In case you have forgotten, dad, we’re down a person. And I’d hate to see these poor bastards die because they aren’t prepared.”

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into a month. Ford went to check the food supply, finding that it was running low. “Damn it. At this rate, we won’t have enough to eat, even with hunting.”

“Well, we have to feed the kids first.” Sherman sat on a crate, watching his oldest brother sort out meals.

“What we need to do is get out of here.” Stan’s voice rang out as he approached with the rest of the family, Kenny, and Lee. “Ken and I were talking. We’re sitting ducks here. An easy target. Lilly’s leadership is bound to get all of us killed.”

“We need to get the kids and get out as soon as possible. I’ve been looking at that old RV. It’s an easy fix. If we take it? We’ll be just fine.”  Filbrick  looked to the others, feeling the desperate need to leave radiating from all of them.

“Okay, plan:” Stephen pulled out a road map and a marker, marking destinations. “Tonight, we get everybody into the RV. Ford, Stan, you two move the dumpsters as quickly and quietly as possible. Dad, you drive the RV out, we snag them on the way, and we just fucking  _ drive _ .”

“I think you’re all insane.” Ford looked at the meager food rations and gave an inward sigh. “But you’re right. It’s our best option.”

As night fell,  Filbrick  gave the signal. Stan came down from his watch post and met F o rd by the dumpsters. Kenny and Lee  began to usher the children onto the RV while Stephen and  Katjaa  kept an eye out. Luckily, the dumpsters were on wheels, allowing the twins to effortlessly begin moving them.

“So, you think we’ll be able to get  outta  here without Lilly taking notice?” Stan looked to his brother with worry. “She seems like the type that shoots first and asks questions later.”

“We don’t have any other choice, Stanley.  I get that there’s safety in numbers, but if those numbers aren’t on the same page as you, everything falls apart.”

“Ford, no numbers in a book are on the same page.” Ford looked at Stan’s condescending grin with a hard frown.

“Just shut up and push the fucking dumpsters.” As the twins pushed the large metal containers, they were surprised to find that they are fucking  noisey .

“Where the hell are you two going?” Lilly came out of her room in a groggy and tired state, aiming her hunting rifle directly at them.

“J-Just for a walk. People from Jersey always take their pet dumpsters for walks!”  Ford, to credit Stan's claim,  gave the dumpster a hard pat with a terrified smile.

Lilly lowered her gun with a very confused expression. “I... I’m too fucking tired for this. Just put the dumpsters back when you’re done with whatever the hell it  is  you’re doing... we don’t need walkers infesting the place.”

“Will do, Lilly.” Ford watched her go back into the motel before turning to Stan. “People from Jersey always take their pet dumpsters on walks? That’s the best you could come up with?!”

“She’s been putting me on night watch for the last week, I am  _ exhausted _ .”

“Dad would be extremely disappointed in you-”

“Dad’s always extremely disappointed in me! My middle name is Extreme Disappointment!”

“Wow... way to insult us,  Shermie , and Dad. Now let’s finish moving the fucking dumpsters before Lilly comes back out here!”

Ford and Stan finished moving the dumpsters and signaled to the RV from atop one. Sherman, taking a deep breath, finished hot-wiring the vehicle and slammed his foot on the gas as hard as he could. The Stans leaped from the dumpster, effortlessly landing on top of the vehicle as it passed by.

“Fuck, ow, my shoulder-”

“Stan, worry about that  later,  we have bigger problems!” Lilly busted out of her room to see the group escaping, as well as Stan throwing “The Arm” at her, making direct eye contact. A bullet flew by the twins as they went driving off, screaming their family name as a victory chant. Their victory was, however, short lived as walkers began seeping out of the tree lines, following the commotion they had caused.

“SOMEBODY OPEN THE DAMN HATCH AND LET US IN!!” Stan frantically began pulling on the hatch before it opened to reveal Clementine on Lee’s shoulders. They dropped in, Ford shutting the hatch as he did. “Maybe... we shouldn’t have made so much noise.”

“Don’t think that matters now. We’re moving  faster’n  they can.” Kenny stood from where he was sat with a large grin. “N’ we can run over any that get in our way!  Dunno  how, but  y’all  did it.” Ken and Lee caught Stan as he collapsed, Ford staring with  worry .

“Ooh... haven’t been sleeping.”

“It’s alright, man.” Lee helped him stand with a sigh. “Go get some rest. You deserve it.” Stan went to the bed at the back of the camper, falling into a deep sleep as soon as he hit the mattress. Lee turned his attention to the other twin. “You should probably sleep, too. Things are a lot harder at  your  age.”

“I’m fifty-one, not crippled.” Ford grimaced and glared at the man with a huff. He was going to stay  awake  the entire time he was with Lee just to spite him now.

“Goddammit, man, just take a damn nap.” Kenny shoved Ford onto the couch with a cheeky grin. “We’ll be in Tennessee by  mornin ’. Sleep.” Ford looked to the children’s smiling faces, Dipper and Mabel throwing a blanket over him. Slowly, he felt a deep comfort envelop him, and he allowed himself to drift off into a dark and restless sleep.


	4. Mania

_ “Stanford?” Ford turned to see  _ _ Fiddleford _ _  standing by his porch. “Ford, I need your help!” The man was frantic and _ _  holding a child in his arms _ _. “It’s Tate, he fell into the lake, he’s freezing – I think he may have stopped breathing, Stanford I’m so scared-” _

_ Ford rushed to  _ _ Fidds _ _ ’ side, taking Tate inside immediately. “Get my electric blanket from the closet, turn on the heater, and then Tate should have some spare clothes in the parlor.” Ford began to preform CPR, pressing down on the child’s chest so hard he feared a broken rib. But alas, Tater sucked in a hard breath. Ford changed Tate’s clothes and bundled him up in the heated blanket with a sigh of relief. _

_ “Is he okay?” Ford looked to his partner with a nod. “Good, because if I ever lost him, I might just go crazy.” _

Ford awoke to the sound of bullets hitting the RV. Instinctively, he jumped down and flattened himself to the ground. He crawled forward and attempted to peek out the windshield. Turrets.  Fiddleford  had engineered turrets out of scrap. He popped the top hatch open and stuck out a broom handle with Stan’s fez on it. The firing ceased and the turrets went dormant, allowing passage.

As they pulled up to the farmhouse,  Fiddleford  came bursting out with a rifle. “I WILL NOT HESITATE TO-” He stopped as soon as Ford came out. “Stanford.” Ford took the other man tightly into his arms with a tear-filled smile.

“God, I was so worried about you. Where... is everybody?” The older man looked to the ground with a sad stare, and Ford finally noticed the hat on his head. “Even... Tate?”  Fiddleford  nodded silently, causing Ford to have to sit down.

“What’s the word?” Stan led the rest of the group over, and Ford gave them a heartbroken look. Stan felt that pang in his chest. Ford lost the closest thing he’d ever had to a child. Ford excused himself quietly into the RV, where he let out all his aggression on the walls. Stan went to follow, but a hand on his shoulder kept him back.

“Stanley, just leave him be.” His father’s voice was soft. “He’s a Pines man. This is just how we grieve in our youth.” Stan turned to look his dad in the eyes. “Listen to me for his sake. He’ll talk about it when he’s ready.”

“You haven’t even been in Ford’s life! You don’t know what he needs right now!”

“Kid, come on-”

“NO!” Stan pulled himself free from his father’s grasp and went after his twin. The incoherent sobbing and screaming continued and intensified until Stan came back out. “Okay, yeah, he is... not responding well to me.”

Ford emerged after a few minutes, his face stained by tears and eyes swollen. “I’m fine.”

“I-I have food in the farmhouse. The best thing ‘bout  bein ’ on a hog farm is I can let the pigs run wild, and them up-an- walkin 's  will just be picked off and eaten by ‘ em .”  Fiddleford  cast a reassuring look toward Ford, allowing his lips to quirk into a small smile.

“U-Up-and-walkin's?” Ford sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Good to see your flair for language hasn’t been affected by all the trauma you have.”

“Pigs eat meat?" Clementine looked to Lee and Kenny with wide eyes. “I though pigs were herbivores!”

“Oh, pigs are opportunistic. They’ll eat anything, including people and each other.” Ford’s words had meant to be educational, but were instead terrifying.

“Don’t worry, Clementine.” Lee knelt down and ruffled the girl’s hair. “Pigs are... like the size of a large dog, aren’t they?”

“Hun, a well-fed farm pig will grow to be seven hundred pounds.” The whole group turned to see a walker be tackled and devoured by two pigs. “These  lil ’ guys have been  eatin ’ like crazy. They may as well be predators at this point.” Duck looked on, awestruck, while Clementine frowned with wide, terrified eyes.

Ford offered the group’s introductions, leaving  Fidds  to smile at the friends they had made along the way. “We kind of escaped a tyrant at our old settlement.”

“Lilly and her dad were a piece of work. Feel bad for leaving Mark and Doug behind, but I was not about to let her run us into the ground.” Kenny crossed his arms with a grimace and punctuated the action with a grunt. “And Larry wanted to throw my boy to the walkers.”

“Up-an- walkin's , dad.”

“I will up and walk you, now hush.”

Fiddleford  led the group into the tattered farmhouse, a devastated shell of the family home it once was. Dried blood spattered the walls, floor, and ceiling of the entryway, dotting the family portraits of the previous tenants.

“What in  God’s  name happened here?” Lee’s question escaped on bated breath, struggling to cut through the thick silence.

“One of my nephews died from the measles, and we didn’t notice until Ma got bit checking on ‘ im .” There was a wave of shock that soaked into the silence that followed that statement, and  Fiddleford  let out a sigh. “Listen, it’s a large Catholic family on a farm in rural Tennessee. Half of these people didn’t believe in birth control, let alone vaccines.”

Ford’s eyes occasionally caught the odd child’s shoe or a bloodied toy, and his stomach would flip. He couldn’t imagine the absolute torture being the sole survivor of his family. “How did you survive?” His question went unanswered. “ Fidds ?”

“I...”  Fiddleford’s  eyes were wild and beginning to drift. “I... ran into the cellar... and hid... like a coward.” Ford stepped forward and held him, feeling relief as he melted into the embrace. “I heard them all screaming for help... and I just... stayed down there.”

Ford held  Fidds  as he began to sob incoherently. “Why don’t you all head into the kitchen and figure out food? I’ll... stay with him.”

The sobbing became more muffled as the group left the room and Ford carried the other man upstairs. Stan looked after his twin, saddened at the sudden inability to quell his worries. “So... food options.” He opened a cabinet and pulled out a can. “Hm. Pickled asparagus. My favorite. Quality cuisine right here.” Clementine’s face emulated what everybody in the room thought of that.

“Okay, quick question: can you fill us in on what just happened there?” Kenny sat at the bar, prompting Stan to explain how Tate was  Fiddleford’s  son, and therefore Ford’s too. How  Fiddleford  came from a family with ten kids where he was the only boy. The faces of their new companions fell in sympathy as they realized the gravity of the old man’s loss.

“Are they going to be okay?” Stan looked to Clementine’s concerned  vocal  tone with uncertainty.

“Who knows? Ford was always the more emotionally sound of the two of us. It’s hard to tell exactly how he copes with these things.”

“Well, while you kids sit and run  ya  mouths, I’m  gonna  start food.”  Filbrick  dragged a chair to the cupboards, reaching into the higher shelves blindly.

“I don’t know what I’m more afraid of,” Sherman elbowed his son with a snort, “Your grandpa falling, dying, and eating us, or his cooking.”

“Remember that one time he tried to cook a nice dinner when we went there for Christmas to surprise grandma?” Stephen struggled to hold back a laugh. “And he caught the kitchen on fire so we just ordered pizza?”

“And how the firefighter told him not to try and cook without his mom’s supervision, gesturing to your grandma?”

As they laughed at the memories, a cane came swinging down to hit both the men on the head. “If all you two are  gonna  do is make fun of me, take the kids and find  somethin ’ for them to do. Anybody willing to help me cook? Otherwise I might poison  ya  by mistake.”

Stan followed all of the group save for  Katjaa  into the sitting room,  Fiddleford’s  sobbing and Ford’s words of comfort still muffled above them.  Sherman placed a hand on his shoulder. “Dude, you okay? You’ve been really combative lately.” The question was paired with eyes identical to their mother’s emerald green, clouded with worry.

“I just... I can’t let go of what happened. Everybody else can suck it up and be nice to dad, but I can’t...” Stan’s gaze glued to the pattern in the hardwood as his thoughts of self-doubt began to swirl.

He couldn’t hold a stable job. He had to resort to crime to make ends meet. There are things that no person, let alone a teenage kid, should have to go through. And yet? He could remember, just days before his eighteenth birthday, hanging out under lamps on street corners in the bad part of town, getting into random cars and preforming unsavory acts for little bits of pocket change.

“Bro... listen: your feelings are understandable. But we can’t have this conversation every two weeks. At some point, you have to realize that you will  _ never _  forgive him. But that doesn’t mean you can’t work together for the sake of the group.” Sherman removed his hand with a heavy sigh, his face actually looking its age for once due to the noticeable lack of positive energy usually hanging in the air around him.

“And you? Are you okay?” Stan’s question deflected the conversation from himself.

“I mean... dude. What’s the point? It’s clear that there’s no hope. The world’s gone to shit, and it’ll eventually take us with it.” Sherman looked to the ground, suddenly aging another decade. “Why even fight when there’s nothing to fight for? At least in the military, I could fool myself into believing that I was fighting for my country. For freedom or some shit.”

“Hey. I’ll tell you what the point is: The kids.” Stan smiled at his baby brother proudly. “You got a kid with kids of his own. You  gotta  take care of them.”

Ford looked around the room, frantic. He  _ had _  to console  Fidds . He spots a John Denver record and places it on the record player, hoping to soothe  Fiddleford’s  pain. He watched in distress as he only cried harder.

“Stanferd, turn that shit off, my life is in shambles.” Ford removed the needle from the record, allowing silence to seep into the atmosphere around Fiddleford’s statement. “But it’s okay. I’m gonna fix him. I’ve been working on a cure.”

“ Fidds ...  what are you talking about...?” Ford took a few steps back, now seeing the madness in Fiddleford’s eyes.

“ In taking care of him in this state , I’ve also developed a procedure to prevent the bite from killing you. Remove the bite from the body.”  Fidds  lifted his shirt to reveal healing wounds, areas where he’d been bitten and carved the infected tissue out.

“Who... do you have in the basement,  Fidds ...?” Ford took another shaking step back.

“Tate got bit  tryin ’ to save his aunt. I watched him turn before escaping to the basement like a damn coward.”  Fiddleford  began to shake, a plastic smile on his face. “I lost my arm catching him later .”

“ Fiddleford ...  one has to die to become a walker. You... even if you cured him, you would just have... a rotting corpse.” Ford went stone faced.  He knew what he needed to tell his love, even if he didn’t wish to hear it.

Before he could elaborate, Duck’s scream erupted from the basement. The entire group stampeded, only to find Tate’s living corpse biting into the child’s arm.  Fiddleford  looked to Kenny, only seeing a building rage in his eyes.

“You mother fucker!” The Florida man lunged toward  Fiddleford , only to be held back by Lee and Stan. “My son’s  gonna  fuckin die because of you! I’m  gonna  rip you a second asshole!”  Katjaa  shouted at Kenny to calm down as  Filbrick  walked  in behind her and took in the sight with a paling face.

“I’m sorry- I just- my son-”

“YOUR son? Just got MY son killed!” Kenny shook off the men holding him back before walking over to the walker and pulling out a gun.

“No, stop- HE DIDN’T MEAN-”  Fiddleford’s  desperate pleas were cut off by a gunshot right through Tate’s head. He began to wail over his son’s lifeless corpse, Kenny walking over to Duck.

“Hey, there, Ducky.”

“Dad...” Duck looked up with tears in his eyes and a weak, shaking voice, “am I  gonna  turn?”

“No. Your mom and I won’t let you.  Katjaa , take him and the gun out to the barn. I have to prepare myself mentally.” She left as Kenny sat and let tears fall down his cheeks. “Just like that... his life is over. And I have to be the one to do it.” A few moments of silence went by before they heard the gun go off. Kenny ran out, Stan and Lee right behind him, to find  Katjaa , a bullet through the head.

“Wait! Don’t mercy kill!  Fidds  says we can amputate!” Ford arrived, dragging a distraught  Fiddleford  with him, and went silent at the sight of  Katjaa’s  body. “We can save Duck. Hold out his arm.” Kenny hesitated, but trusted Ford’s judgement. Ford grabbed the nearby hedge trimmers and positioned them at Duck’s shoulder.

_ Just count to three, Ford. One... two... three... _


End file.
